Personal Items
by spamightwrite
Summary: Sick people like us can speculate that Dean, in fact, did know about that certain side of Seth he mentioned on Raw. The side that keeps "personal items" that may or may not vibrate and may or may not be an electric razor. (Content: slash, sex toys, frotting, masturbation)


The first time, it had been an accident.

Dean stumbled out of the elevator and into the hotel hallway. He'd spent his evening at a nearby karaoke bar with some rather loud people that were entirely too willing to buy him drinks for a good Billy Idol cover. His idea of a great time.

His teammates in the Shield were a little bit more interested in sleeping. Too many late nights closing out shows, too many hours on the road, not enough time to relax. Though Dean had a very different definition of relaxation, he ended up back at the hotel a little bit earlier than he expected. He hated to admit that these things were catching up to him, but he was exhausted that evening.

As he headed toward one of the two rooms reserved for his team, he pulled out his plastic key card from his pocket, sending some loose change to the floor with a jingle. With a sigh he bent down to pick up his coins, falling forward onto his face somewhat immediately. He let out a snicker and rolled over onto his back, making it to his feet with a certain amount of effort. The coins would be there in the morning, probably. Who cares?

Dean made it to what he (sort of, kind of) remembered to be the room Seth was staying in. Though he would always get up early to find a Crossfit gym, which was annoying, he would also skip the complimentary breakfast, which left twice as many waffles for Dean.

After a few attempts, the card key reader flashed green with approval, allowing Dean to lean forward onto the handle and trip forward into the room, somehow keeping his feet.

It hadn't occurred to him that the lights were still on at this ridiculous hour. What did occur to him was that Seth was still awake. And naked.

His teammate was on his hands and knees on one of the beds, his face buried into the pillow, a vibrating dildo stuffed halfway into his ass. He was thrusting himself into his fist, panting, moaning quietly, so wrapped up in the act that he hadn't noticed Dean entering the room.

"Wow." He hadn't meant to say it. He was fully prepared to walk out without saying a single word and speaking of it never again. But the pleasant buzz of alcohol had all but eliminated his ability to be stealthy.

Seth opened his eyes, his face immediately going even redder than before, and flailed under the covers with some struggle and a lot of tangling. The vibrator was still buzzing, and it wasn't quiet about it. Both men seemed to notice this, and Dean's jaw could have reached the floor if it hadn't been attached to his head.

"What the fuck!" Seth shouted, fumbling underneath the blankets. "Did it never occur to you to knock!?" The buzzing stopped and Seth used his now-free hands to cover his face. "God fucking damn, get out!"

Out of instinct rather than obedience, Dean whirled back out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He spent several moments trying to process what he'd just seen, and found nothing else he could do besides letting loose an unrestrained cackle. Bent over, holding his stomach, he laughed uncontrollably as he stumbled down the hallway.

His giggling had subsided by the time he made it to the stairwell. The other room, where Roman was probably – hopefully – asleep, was just one floor up and Dean had entirely forgotten that the elevator would take him there faster and with less effort. He opened the heavy door, letting it creak shut behind him, and began hauling himself up the stairs.

In his tipsy state, he found it difficult to find each step with his feet alone. He looked down to make sure he wouldn't fall again, and found something that gave him pause. There was a considerable bulge in the front of his jeans.

"Shit," he muttered, more amused with himself than surprised. He had always been somewhat insatiable, and it didn't take much to get him going. And indeed, he was never picky about who made him hard.

He made it to the landing in between floors and leaned his back against the wall, sliding downward onto the floor with his legs spread wide. It was late, he doubted anyone ever even used these stairs, and he wasn't about to embarrass both of his teammates.

He unzipped himself and his erection sprang out immediately from the hole in his boxers. Without hesitation he wrapped his fist around his aching cock and started pumping it hard from base to head. He felt his face burning already, the tension building in the base of his cock, his balls, his lower stomach. Dean prided himself on being able to last, but he had nobody else to impress or pleasure this time. Notwithstanding he was more riled up than he remembered being for quite a while.

An image of Seth, wrapped fully in his own ecstasy, his fingers in his mouth, the sound of him whimpering, was imprinted firmly in his mind. Dean found himself moaning along with him.

His other fist found its way up to his mouth. Biting down on his knuckles, his other hand squeezed and pumped as fast as it possibly could. He thrust himself into his own fist, sweating all over, shaking, his teeth sinking into his fingers. The moment was arriving rather quickly. He was too drunk on himself and on alcohol to contain it.

His pleasure spurted up and landed hot against his sleeveless shirt, reaching all the way up to the neckline. Breathing heavily, his tongue hanging out, Dean glanced downward and found the familiar white stain seeping through his shirt onto his stomach and chest. He gingerly lifted his shirt over his head and crumpled it into a ball, wiping up what remained on his skin and tossing his shirt in the corner.

It wouldn't be the first time he had to abandon his shirt, but Roman and Seth had learned not to ask by now. Dean stuffed himself back into his jeans and hauled himself to his feet. Satisfied as he was, he still couldn't be sure how well he would be able to sleep that night.

~  
The second time, Seth gave himself away.

It was several weeks later, and neither man had spoken a single word about it. Seth was rather good at pretending nothing was wrong, and Dean was weird enough that acting strangely wasn't really an indication of anything. It was getting to the point where they were both beginning to forget about it.

Until Dean walked by Seth's room one evening.

He'd decided staying with Roman was a better idea since the incident. He had better taste in movies, anyway. Walking back from the vending machines, he heard something through the door to Seth's room.

Something familiar, but nearly forgotten.

Dean disbelieved his own ears at that moment, yet stopped walking. It had sounded like Seth's voice, making some sort of happy, lovely, aching, noise.

He waited for several seconds, entirely prepared to move on. But he couldn't, because he heard it again. There was no mistaking it. It was Seth. It was Seth moaning, like he did that one night weeks ago, but louder, more desperate.

A grin found its way to Dean's mouth.

As quietly as he could possibly muster, he inserted the key card into the slot and slowly turned the handle, heart racing with anticipation.

It was even worse – better? – than the last time.

Seth was naked, sprawled out on his back on the bed, the covers in a pile on the floor. His right hand was clenched around the shaft of his cock, pumping slowly and lovingly, while a clear jelly ring vibrated around it at the base. In his other hand was a remote control. A small cord ran from the remote to something inserted into his tight hole. His eyes were shut tight, his lower lip clenched under his teeth, whimpers and moans were flowing freely from his throat.

Dean let the door shut behind him, and Seth jumped in his vulnerable position. His eyes flew open to find his teammate smirking at him from the doorway. Seth groped around the bed for the covers before he realized they were out of reach. He spent one moment glaring at Dean, and then sighed and lay back down, turning both of the toys off entirely.

His hands casually in his pockets, blood rushing to his groin, Dean chuckled, "We've got to stop meeting like this. Why don't you invite me to watch if you're gonna be so loud?"

Seth, his hair sticking to his sweating forehead, made several futile hand gestures while attempting to say something, and placed a hand over his eyes. "Just sit down."

This was going far better than he could ever imagine. No going back.

Dean took a seat in the desk chair. "What, did you wanna get caught?" He slowly unzipped his jeans, Seth unable to look him in the eye. "I could hear you from the hallway. You wanted me to hear you. You want me to see this. Either that or you're just a complete slut and you just can't contain yourself."

Seth started to get up. There was something close to murder in his eyes. But he stopped. Dean was rubbing himself through his boxers. Seth's expression softened as he focused on Dean's hand, Dean's crotch, Dean's face.

That damn grin.

No point in denying it.

Seth dropped himself back onto the pillow and shook his head. "At least I start doing this shit when I'm alone, and not while you're asleep in the same room. Unlike you."

Dean guffawed and gave his knee a slap. Not that he ever cared if Seth knew it was happening, but he was sure he had been quiet. At least quieter than him.

His laughter died down. Dean's voice got low and deep, in a way that he could tell was making Seth's heart skip. "I think what we're trying to say is," he got up, pulling his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. "We both know what we want."

Seth couldn't speak, his breath coming out in huffs. He looked at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and nodded.

With zero hesitation, Dean pulled down his jeans and kicked them off. His shirt was thrown in some random direction. Taking deep, harsh breaths, he clambered onto the bed and on top of Seth. Seth was looking away, blushing, his limbs limp and willing against the bed.

He finally had him. He was ready and he was gorgeous. His face red, looking everywhere except at the man on top of him, chewing at his lower lip. Dean wanted to take this in, he wanted to remember this. He couldn't help but smile from ear to ear.

Seth squirmed underneath him, feeling his gaze. "Are we doing this or what?!" he shouted. "Jesus, man I can't stand you sometimes."

"I knew it," Dean laughed, one hand reaching toward the remote control and another to Seth's cock. "You really are a bit of a slut, aren't you?" He turned the dial on the remote to its maximum level, causing a gasp to escape Seth's lungs. Dean groped about the cock ring, his fingers lightly touching Seth but attempting to figure out how to work the damn thing. He found a button after a few moments, and pressed it some number of times until he found the highest setting.

Seth whined, covering his mouth with both hands.

"No." Dean took both of Seth's wrists and planted them firmly yet gently against the bed. "I like hearing you."

He wasn't sure how it could be possible, but Seth's face got even redder. The man below him tried to contain his noises, but a whimper came out. And another. And a moan.

Dean lined up his own pulsing erection with Seth's and pressed them together, hard. Seth's eyes snapped shut and another moan bounced against Dean's ears. The vibration began pulsing through the both of them, sending a rather deep and tingling pleasure through Dean. He'd never really bothered with vibrating toys before, but he could easily get used to this feeling.

The bigger man began thrusting against Seth, the heat becoming nearly unbearable between them. Both tension and pleasure began to mount within Dean. The noises Seth was making only made him harder, made him thrust faster, made him want to have more of Seth against his body.

He let go of Seth's wrists and took one of his tight, hairy legs under his muscled arm. His other big hand he placed on the pillow next to Seth's head for leverage. The smile still hadn't left Dean's face as he rubbed himself and Seth together, starting to make some noise himself. He grunted in syncopation with Seth's whines and whimpers, half because it felt incredible and half to encourage the other man to be louder.

Dean had him, almost all of him. He had his body, his pleasure, his moans, his trust. But there was one more thing he wanted from the shaking, sweating, beautiful man beneath him.

He placed his hand on Seth's forehead and pushed the hair sticking to it out of the way. Seth winced in surprise, having not been able to see this coming.

Dean lowered his head, his breath hot against Seth's neck, energy rushing in the air between them. He growled in Seth's ear, raspy and pleading, "Look at me, Seth. I want to see all of you. Right now."

He opened his eyes. Deep brown, shining, fully awake in the way they were when he was in the ring. Dean's eyes, sad, light blue, blurred over with the fullest extent of his pleasure, locked with Seth's.

Neither was able to contain themselves in that moment. They peaked together, the spark of pure physical joy flaring between them. Seth with a whining excitement, Dean with a strong grunt, they each pumped their pleasure out all over each other's bare stomachs. It could have lasted moments or minutes, but it was just long enough before Dean collapsed against Seth.

The moisture of sweat and semen sticking them together, there was little that could be said.

Dean made an attempt.

"I really don't know if this was your plan all along. But it was mine, at least."

~End.


End file.
